Maybe they're right…
Maybe I’m a terrible person
A narcissistic ******* with
Manipulative tendencies
And a giant ego

Breath

Could I be a wolf
Disguised in sheep’s clothing?
Or perhaps a deceptive villain
That became an expert at
Playing the good guy part?

Breath…

What if I’m no better than
My **** father and grandfather?
What if the difference between us
Is merely circumstantial?

Breath!

You know all those dreams
Are never going to happen
Right?!

Breath!!!

It doesn't have to be like this
It could all go away, you know?

Breath, breath, breath

It will go away eventually
But not like this

Breath…

Love,
in its calm,
feels like breathing,
quiet,
steady,
always there.

courting breaths   after blue i brighten
       i lighten   with originless humour
and then ugliness anew                          
   i tighten   into some packed pearl of monster
breathe in   breathe out   courting breaths
the susurration    of all this lung
resuscitation    and it's 'good morning mourning'

then 'bring out the empathy' !  and zitty connections
and marvel over   'those poor things'          
larval in their struggles   up the redline
and envision throwing them heaps               
of hairdryers  salad spinners  monopoly boards
            vibrating cushions  for back massage
and obscure tinned delicacies  from my extensive travels
the five devils of my mind  tackle my erratic breath
five mad ideas  of how to run their lives
                        milk their hive
form a worship  and go to war..

..then it is i who goes larval                  
                          carving in on my minuscule heart
crutching in like a fractured pill bug
not daring to raise my eyes      
             for fear of offending my superiors
breathe in   breathe out
counting down the breaths til rattle

I draw your name with a thin twig in a sand,
Like touching the surface of meanings by breath.
Sand grains flows together like dots on a chequered sheet
And lay down one-line in letters as shibboleth.

In every sand letter of your name there’s me,
Untalented, hopeless, irrelevant, but so tender.
The stray wind will blow away your name from me
And I will stay alone on a sand, unshod and in surrender.